


Watching the Corn Stalks Grow

by TooCreative4Life



Series: A Home for Our Memories [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Baby, Be Careful What You Wish For, Black widow as mother, Blackhawk - Freeform, Blackhawk Family, Canon Het Relationship, Canon Related, Clint Feels, Clint Needs a Hug, Cute, Cute Ending, Cute Kids, Day Off, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family History, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Happy, Happy Ending, Healthy Relationships, Home, Homecoming, Inter-House Relationships, Late Night Conversations, Love, Married Couple, Married life of spies, Meet the Family, Memories, Mission Related, Mother-Son Relationship, Natasha Feels, Natasha is a good parent, Not Beta Read, Not Sadstuck, Parent Clint, Parent Clint Barton, Parent Natasha, Parent Natasha Romanov, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), Post-Mission, Protective Natasha, Requited Love, Summer Love, Summer Nights, Sweet, Their Love Is So, Waiting, Waiting For Update, What Was I Thinking?, Wishful Thinking, calm, family love, husband wife, remembering, spouse, waiting for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooCreative4Life/pseuds/TooCreative4Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Battle of New York, non-cannon with Captain America 2: SHIELD has not fallen</p><p>Clint and Natasha are the greatest duo in the history of SHIELD and have been partners for more years than many senior agents have had their posts. Their success rate, together, is better than most agents could dream of. However, after years of secret dating and being married, they have a life outside of SHIELD with their six month old adopted son Ilari. One of them must stay behind and watch over him. Neither like it, though they have to do it. It's hard on both of them when the other isn't there. It's as if a part of their body is no longer with them. They feel lost and uneasy. </p><p>Natasha sits on the porch of their country home, halfway between DC and New York, and watches the farm fields across the road as she waits for Clint to come home on a late summers eve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching the Corn Stalks Grow

Soft breezes flooded through the tall fields, raising sparrows into the warm night sky. Fireflies dotted the air, zigzagging around the porch lights. A single pair of eyes watched as the small glowing dots danced. Her lips were pulling into a thin smile, a serene expression dwelling on the rest of her features. Bright blue eyes were peacefully following the bugs, intrigued by them as a small child would be. 

 

Her gaze drifted down to the small sleeping bundle in her arms. Her lips pulled apart more, a wider grin seeping onto them. Only a tuft of soft auburn hair peeked from beneath the blanket. Natasha was, in some ways, glad that their little Ilari had none of their attributes. It was hard enough for her to look at the boy and not long for his father. If he had the same light sand colored locks? She would hardly be able to tear herself away at all, for any reason. She suspected it would be likewise for her archer if the boy had dark red hair, like her own. 

 

Separating herself from Clint for missions was a task difficult enough, in and of itself. The spies had become so used to one another as partners over the years that working with any other agent felt unnatural. Not to mention it grated on both of their nerves not knowing whether the other person would not be coming home. In the field they could control it, the other half had a chance to stop it. Separated by miles and miles of distance, there was nothing either could do. A low groaning growl rose in Natasha’s throat as she resisted the urge to shift in the seat. Any movement and the bundle in her arms would wake. 

 

That was another thing she had wished her child didn’t resemble them in. Neither of the spies slept easily, and nor did their son. Any movement or loud noise and the boy would let loose caterwauls louder than that of a wounded donkey, and just as irritating in sound as well. The scowl that had drifted onto Natasha’s angled features dissipated as she looked at Ilari again. Her tight knit brows loosened before a quiet chuckle broke free. 

 

He was so similar to Clint when he slept. Both of them burrowed deeply into the covers, almost as if they were disappearing to Wonderland, and would huddle as close to her as possible. Natasha did not mind when either of them did it, over time it had become as much of a needed comfort to her as it was to them. She never had craved contact before Clint became her partner. The more she had worked with him, the less she had come to resent physical contact. At first it was with the constant back-to-back fighting style, then with the victorious high-fives and hugs, and as they began to fall for the other it moved onto more personal things such as hovering or holding hands. 

 

“How are you so much like us, yet so small?” Her voice was light as she craned her neck to look at her sleeping bundle. “Learning from us isn’t the smartest move, tyke. Might be better if you learned from Steve or Bruce. They sleep more soundly,” she chuckled quietly, smiling contentedly at her child.

 

“But they’re not as fun,” chuckled a baritone voice. 

 

Natasha’s head didn’t even move as she recognized the sound of his laugh and clomping echo of his steps. Her own quiet sounds of amusement were slipping free of her lips. Her lips were pulled wide as they could go, though her smile was hidden as she tucked her chin close to her chest, allowing a curtain of red to fall between her and Clint. 

 

She listened intently as he placed his bag beside her chair and stepped around her, stopping when he was directly behind her. She was not surprised when she felt his hands on her shoulders. She welcomed the contact and hummed happily in response. He dropped his hands from her shoulders, gently crossing them over her chest and hugging her through the chair. With a purposeful slowness, Natasha tilted her head back and rested it upon the wooden back of her chair. 

 

Their eyes connected immediately. Clint’s steel blues were warm and soft as he smiled down at his partner. Small crinkles gathered at the edges of his eyes, the only outward sign of how tired he was. Natasha’s easy expression fell away as she began to stand, careful to keep a good hold on her precious burden. She knew his gaze was following her movements, reassuring himself that she was fine and had not been on a separate, secret, mission. The Russian spy had long ago given up on assuring the archer that she would tell him if she had done anything, it was a pointless thing to argue with a bull-headed spy even more stubborn than herself. 

 

With careful steps she walked to Clint’s side. She stopped for a heartbeat before reaching up to his cheek. She let her eyes drag along his face, taking in the missions tolls. The deep crease lines on his relaxed brow told her it had not gone to plan, as did the purpling bruises on his neck and jaw. His chin and cheeks were covered in a fine layer of stubble, with a thin coating of dust and dirt hiding in the hairs and creases of his nose. Without meaning to, she reached a hand towards his face, cupping his cheek with a feather-soft touch. Her thumb stroked the bridge of his nose with care, subtly feeling if he had done anything to it. She knew Clint well enough to know that he had likely skipped out on the medical team’s exams, preferring to hide in the vents and let everything simmer down before sneaking home. 

 

A quiet sigh left Natasha’s lips as her thumb paused, stopping at the tip of his nose. She raised her eyes to meet Clint’s again. Her gaze was softer, filled with concern and understanding. Those alone brought a warm feeling to the archer’s gut. He was among the few on earth, and not, who were gifted to the right of seeing her emotions laid bare. Clint understood why she was so closed, it was part of the job. Though, that only meant that he also could comprehend why it was so amazing that she could show him that part of her at all. 

 

Few people knew that Natasha felt just like everyone else. She was not a robot without emotions. She cared more than almost anyone, but she had been taught to never let it show. A side effect, Clint had learned, of being taught to hide emotions was that his Russian had picked up the ever useful, yet annoying, skill of reading anyone like an open book. He knew that she was picking apart every little crease and wrinkle on his face, as well as daring to look at his posture, picking out whether he was injured and hiding it. A low questing sound filled the air as Natasha scanned her eyes carefully over Clint’s body again. 

 

The archer let out a quiet chuckle as he reached forward, putting a rough hand on her shoulder and the other covering her hand on his cheek. “I’m fine,” he told her as his eyes connected with hers. 

 

The icy gaze was warm to Clint as he squeezed her shoulder lightly and nodded. Smiles passed between them before each took a step forward, meeting in the middle of the small distance between them. Clint’s arms wrapped tightly around Natasha as her single arm curled around his waist. They stood on their porch, tangled in their own world and just holding onto the other, for what seemed like hours. 

 

Their hearts beat as one, two rhythms in unison that complimented their son’s so well. It was a perfect symphony, an almost divine moment when their small family was together, happy and nothing else mattered to anyone than the other two.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that belongs in a universe with a story I'm currently writing. I'll be posting several more practice and intro pieces to here, if you want to read more. They are mainly to help me get into the flow of the setting and create a consistent voice and coherent surroundings. 
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, I appreciate it. I would love it if you would also drop me a word or two of suggestion, as well as anything you'd like to see from this little family. 
> 
> Have a merry time, and hope to see you again soon.  
> Toodles!


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